Corazon
by Elf340
Summary: "There's a lot more going under the surface than just the disappearance of your parents, Arnold." Prepare yourself for a pulse-pounding adventure! My take on the Jungle Movie.
1. Prologue: Los devoradores

**Corazon**

**A Hey Arnold Jungle Movie fanfic**

**Genre: Action / Adventure / Suspense / Romance**

**This fic is inspired by many fan fics I've been reading about the Jungle Movie, some info of what Craig Bartlett was going to do from the web, and for me, _Congo_ by Michael Crichton (the book has some outdated technology but is well worth a read if you like good ol' fashioned pulp yarn, evil corporate raiders, and some ravenous monsters!)**

**Disclaimer: _Hey Arnold_ belongs to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon**

**PROLOGUE: Los devoradores**

* * *

The morning sun descended its heat onto the coolness of the San Lorenzo jungle, and with the fogginess gone; a world of beauty and danger had emerged. Enormous trees, with branches and leaves that dripped cool water for life below. Though not having as much variety as the Amazon rainforest, this jungle still had a lot of wonders to behold. Howler monkeys, toucans, black jaguars, anacondas, poison-arrow frogs, poisonous plants, you name it plus huge ferns that could reach a man who was 6'9. On the surface, if you took a photograph it would look quite post card-ish, but once inside the damn place, that feeling would evaporate and be replaced with walking on Mars.

An expedition of geologists and executives was now currently underway in one of the islands of Costa Rica where San Lorenzo was and leading them was a mercenary named John Cogan; he was a tough well-built man who broke from the SBS (UK counterpart of the Navy Seals). He had been hired to take them beyond the axis line of the ordinary parts of the San Lorenzo jungle, and into the deeper, technology proof regions where it is said that no living soul has ever returned. He had led expeditions for companies before: oil, gas, coal, GPS builders, logging, geological parties, and weapons manufacturers. He spoke some Spanish and other native tongues of this region which made him suitable for the job. He traveled to many jungles in his past-time but he had a feeling that something was completely off here.

Before leading this expedition, he was set to have a mission where he was tasked to hunt down a husband and wife team who have been sabotaging his client's operation in the jungle. But he declined and demanded another mission since the fee was low, so he recommended the company to a small pack of river pirates who would gladly take the prize while Cogan himself handled the expedition.

Cogan couldn't imagine why they would want to go this particular region of San Lorenzo. He thought it was an area where even if you had the most advance form of technology available, the untamed savageness of the jungle would devour it instantly, like if there was some invisible shield blocking all forms of satellite communications in this sector. But he knew better than to ask why they wanted to go beyond the axis line, instead he'd rather let the answer speak for itself once the expedition knew. What they were after was something called a Type Zero diamond. To the geologists, it was the rarest type of diamond found anywhere in the world and rumors flung around suggesting it is beyond the axis line of San Lorenzo. Their conversations about diamonds went far over Cogan's head, such as ions, atomic structure, electrons, protons, neutrons, you name it. Now what their intentions with the diamond were, Cogan didn't know, since even that remained classified.

For days, the expedition was still adamant on the hunt for the diamond. This was standard procedure for the company: if you don't find your prize, don't bother coming back. It was all going routinely until one day around noon when the Costa Rican porters flatly refused to proceed any further. They insisted that any men foolish enough to go further would be eaten alive, and would only leave the skeletons behind. They kept touching their bodies, and repeating that they would be eaten.

Like most of the Costa Rican porters, all of them had superstitions about the San Lorenzo jungle, with only the geos and the execs being oblivious. Cogan called for the headman. "What tribes are here?" Cogan asked, pointing to the jungle ahead.

"No tribes," the headman said.

"No tribes at all? Not even the Green Eyes?" he asked, referring to the mysterious tribe of San Lorenzo.

"No men come here," the headman said. "This is the area of_ los devoradores_."

"Who are the devourers?"

"_Devorhombs," _the headman said ominously. "They are watching us. You should not have come here."

"What do they look like?"

"No one knows, but I would be fine with just the Chupacabra. That's how scared I am of them."

Cogan sighed. Like his type, he got tired of hearing about _devorhombs. Devorhombs _was everywhere, in plants and rocks and storms and enemies of all kinds. But the belief in _devorhombs_ was prevalent throughout much of Costa Rica, especially in San Lorenzo. He obliged to waste the rest of the day in tedious negotiation. In the end, he doubled their wages and promised them firearms when they returned to the mainland, and they reluctantly agreed to continue on. Cogan considered the incident an irritating native ploy. Porters were known to invoke some local superstition to increase their wages, once an expedition was deep enough into the field and be dependent on them. He grumbled as he told the men that he'll increase their salaries once they were finished. "_I can't wait to get out of this hellhole. I should've brought in Dieter… he's better than the best of us combined._" he thought.

Even when they came upon several areas littered with shattered fragments of bone-which the porters found frightening-Cogan was not concerned. Upon examination, he found the bones were not human but rather the small leftover, delicate bones of howler monkeys. It was true that there had been many bones, and eating bones was a strange site for him to see, but he had been through many jungles in his lifetime and had seen many inexplicable things.

The place was off-putting even for Cogan, but he kept his cool and moved on, even when they found small delicate bones of howler monkeys. There had many bones around the area and he had no idea why there were many bones, but then again many of the world's jungles were to him the definition of "survival of the fittest."

The expedition then saw overgrown fragments of stone that suggested a city had once stood in this area. Cogan had come upon unexplored ruins before. In Peru, in the Congo (he got lucky to get out of there since the area was about to go into a civil war), in Asia, there were cities lost to the human eye that have now been discovered.

They began to set camp near the ruins. The porters were panic-stricken, insisting that the evil forces would attack them during nightfall. Their fear also infected the geologists and executives; to pacify them, Cogan had posted a few guards that night; himself and some of the more efficient porters. In the back of his mind, Cogan thought these legends were utter rubbish and that nothing would happen tonight.

It was midnight. Movement circled in the bushes, and sounds of very low wheez came in. Cogan thought it was a black jaguar but other than that, it remained quiet for the rest of nightfall until dawn.

Suddenly, a beeping sound came from the packing bags. While the porters were curious at the sound, Cogan got to the bags quickly and took out a cell phone sized device that included transmissions from thousands of miles away, a motion sensor device, and a GPS grid point system. He typed in a message to the company and their response was CORLOK? It means they asked him if the rare Type Zero diamond was located. He responded no and typed that they would only have a few minutes before the satellite feed would go dead. Wonder how the expedition will react to this, he thought.

Overhead, the howler monkeys howled and screamed in the trees, shaking the branches, Cogan glanced upward, wondering what had set them going. But it was normal for them to fight in the morning. Then, something struck him lightly in the chest. At first he thought it was an insect but glancing down at his khaki shirt, he saw red liquid, and what he thought at first looked like a very red fruit. He bent down picked up the fruit, and his eyes were now wide-eyed. This wasn't a fruit; it was an eyeball with all its innards squashed right out!

He quickly armed himself with his assault rifle and looked over to where his guards were. They weren't anywhere around him. Cogan moved across the campsite. Overhead, the howler monkeys fell silent. He heard his boots squish in the mud as he moved past the tents of sleeping men. And then he heard the wheezing sound again. It was an odd, soft sound, carried on the swirling morning mist. Cogan wondered to himself if there were any regrets in his life.

The motion sensor all of a sudden beeped slowly, but then built up speed and was now beginning to reach nanoseconds. Then he saw the rest of his guards… and they weren't sleeping. Puddles of blood now formed a halo around the camp. Then he heard bones being crunched by inhuman jaws. His heart pounded minute by minute. "Who the bloody hell's there!" No answer. "What the bloody hell have you done to my crew?!" Though the ground didn't feel anything, his body had sudden tremors and when Cogan saw what was responsible for the deaths, he screamed till whatever it was silenced him.

**A/N: Please review! :)**


	2. The Video Feed

**And here is Chapter 2!**

**Don't own HA!**

Thousands of miles away from the jungle in a dark, windowless room, a dark figure sat all alone and right in front was several LCD monitors not unlike Batman's bat computer. The figure pulled out from the coat, a flash drive and inserted it to the hard drive. From the screens, several files and documents appeared on many certain individuals. But the one thing these individuals had in common was the company they were all working for: Technologies and Resources Consortium or TRC.

"So it's true."

More files were scanned and one particular file was intriguing. All files were yellow, but this was a red file indicating that this could be one of the company's most guarded secrets.

The figure then uploaded another flash drive, but it wasn't more files, it uploaded a video that screened what appeared to be a big, cold, control room filled with state of the art advanced HP computers, a giant screen that showed a grid system of red dots and other data with various employees all over the place. They were all working at frustrating speeds on trying to pinpoint a certain source. The figure pondered what the source was, but the information will come soon. All of it captured from the point of view of a microscopic robot fly the figure had.

"CX fly… begin recording."

* * *

It was quite a big, control room, but the inclusion of technology passed an almost claustrophobic infection towards its employees. This room controlled every little facet of TRC. A heavyset man in his 50's came out of an elevator and into the control room. One of the technicians approached him. "Mr. Scannell, we'll have the transponder signal ready in just a few minutes, but in the meantime umm… coffee and doughnuts for your appetite?"

"No." Scannell said.

"You want to be out there, right?"

"Yes, to make sure nobody's sleeping on the job." He said with vigor. He looked to the screen to see the progress report on the San Lorenzo expedition. "Is the SD Rover near them?" He asked.

"Yes sir, but we have to wait for Rover to hit the spot."

A small aircraft carrier was flying by the San Lorenzo jungle. The pilot detected the spot where the expedition was rumored to be, and signaled to drop a crate. The crate was freefalling into the air and finally landed on the directed spot. The crate opened itself to reveal a go-cart sized robotic vehicle that in blueprint design resembled the Johnny 5 robot from _Short Circuit _with none of the cuteness applied. The robot then proceeded to the campsite.

Back to the center, screens displayed gray fields of crackling static.

"Has the feed been initiated yet?" he asked.

"We initiated, but it may take a bit longer due to the time zones."

"Time zones..." Scannell said with a face palm. "We there now?!"

"I don't think so. Just be patient sir, we'll have the transmission feed soon. SD will deliver the results."

In the first hour of San Lorenzo morning, SD's transmission came through: the static was starting to have fewer dead channel blurs and finally came to a full high-definition setting. Two tents and a smoldering fire that mixed with the mist of the jungle. One of the technicians laughed. "Heh, they're sleeping on the job sir, you might as well go down there."

"Tell SD to scan more of the area." Scannell said.

The technician punched in the controls. The SD Rover's vision was now to full fiber optics. They scanned the video that came from the feed. They then saw more tents and unlike the first two, they were torn to shreds. Supplies of food seemed to be eaten and the tech gear was smashed and scattered all over. When they finally found the crew, their faces went pale. The San Lorenzo crew, the very team hired to find Type Zero… was all over the place.

"Good god… what did this?" one mortified technician said.

"Back scan," Scannell said. "Enhance fifty four to nineteen."

On the screens the camera panned back across the camp. They looked at the jungle. They still saw no sign of what caused this.

"Go to delta. Take forty five."

Onscreen, they finally found the leader of the expedition… with a gun next to his face.

"Jesus, that's Cogan…"

"Zoom and T-lock." Scannell said.

The camera zoomed in on the face. What they saw was grotesque, a head that has only the first half removed and remnants of the skin spread out.

"What did that?"

Then, a black figure shadowed the dead face. From the highest blur, the figure could be a man, but the higher resolution it turns out to have a different outline. Scannell immediately ordered the identification of the figure.

"SCAN IT! SCAN IT!"

"We're scanning sir! We're scanning!"

"I think he's limping."

Scannell stared at the shadow. It didn't look like a limping man; something was wrong, there was more to it. "It's going to walk in front of the lens," he said hoping to find out what it is. They were hearing an odd sound, like a hissing or a sighing, and it increased as it approached closer.

"I want you guys to go to audio and give me the details on its sound!" Scannell demanded.

The techies frantically were running around giving commands to others, punching buttons left and right, tested audio frequencies to see if the figure could make a sound. The sound was unlike anything they've ever heard. The face had already appeared very near the lens of SD. They saw a blurred, dark shape, nothing more. Before they could click in the diopter, it was gone.

"Is this some cannibal native?"

"Impossible, I've read numerous reports that not even the Green Eyes go to this sector. This region of San Lorenzo is uninhabited." Another techie said.

"Something inhabits it."

"Pan and scan." Scannell said with rigid coldness. "See if you can get him onscreen again."

SD finally captured the full resolution of the figure. This was no man; in fact, this was not even an ordinary animal. It had the body of a small bear, the skin of a crocodile, sharp metallic spines on its back, ears of a gremlin, claws that invoke a cassowary, and a face that combined all the animals just mentioned. It made a hissing sound with its forked tongue, and then… a loud ROAR was unleashed from its mouth as it destroyed the SD rover, along with the transmission.

Scannell threw a coffee cup at the screen. "GODDAMN IT! Has the footage been recorded?!"

"Yes sir!" a techie said.

His personnel then came to him. "Sir, what do we tell the families?"

"Compensate each of them for a hold of $90,000." Scannell said.

"But sir, do you think our insurance policy can give that much?"

"A hold of $90,000."

"Our policies are costing this company higher and higher fees!"

"A hold of $90,000… A HOLD."

"Sir don't you thi-

"TELL THEM THAT OR YOU'RE FIRED!"

"Yes sir." The personnel said, frightened of the man.

The other employees were discussing with each other of this mess. Scannell then left the control room to have a private discussion with his liaison regarding the compensations… and other matters.

"Are you certain about this, Mr. Scannell?"

"They all have bank deposits in the Cayman Islands and in parts of Wall Street. You really shouldn't worry."

"All right, what do we do with the San Lorenzo case? Turn this into federal authorities?"

"NO! I want this case killed. Everything killed! The last thing I want to do is to perform a Scheck!"

"And how do you propose we do that?" His liaison questioned.

"Have all the teams cancel their current expeditions and begin their assignment in San Lorenzo within a week. Give them some tough guards as well as we'll be delivering an all-out assault on those… things. Type Zero is the key to the future of this company. It is the only one that has the qualities capable of powering the new device."

"That's great sir, now what about the Green Eyes?"

"We're sending in a lot of teams. There'll probably be some casualties, but nothing major I suppose."

"What about Miles and Stella Shortman?"

"Signal La Sombra and his men to have them eliminated on sight."

"And their son?"

"Whom?"

"The boy who saved his neighborhood from Scheck."

"I don't think we have anything to worry about. Let the boy live his life. Scheck had that document problem, there is no document pertaining anything to San Lorenzo. We're in good hands."

* * *

Unbeknownst to them, a fly was also in the room and it wasn't an ordinary fly.

"So it begins..."

We now return to the lone figure in the dark room. The figure has been watching the jungle video and listening to the conversation with Scannell and his liaison. Then a voice from the telecom came in, the voice of the son of Miles and Stella.

"Mr. Smith, your breakfast is here!"

Smith pressed the button that delivers the tray right to his desk. But breakfast was of no concern to him. His thoughts were now on the poor boy, how he's been hearing about his missing parents for the last few days, and seeing the boy in emotional agony over this.

He's been in this field way too long including living in the boarding house. He had considered retirement a long time ago, but this situation was dire. Now, this was it. It's time that he finds the way to his parents. Also, the boy won't be alone.

A/N: Please review! :)


	3. The Contest

**Authors Note:**

**Hey guys, thanks for the reviews guys! Before I get on with ch 3, I just want to mention that the creatures that look like several body parts of other animals from the previous chapter, have been dropped entirely. You remember some notes from TJM when Nadine was excited about going to the jungle? She said **"**There are 20,000 species of spider in San Lorenzo!" Just like the killer apes from **_**Congo**_**, there will be spiders just like them, so I did a bit of re-editing on chapter 2. Anyways, onward to Arnold and company in chapter 3!**

**I don't own HA!**

* * *

The sun dawned upon the grounds of P.S. 118 and footsteps you'd hear from an office building walked towards it. This is the place.

It was the Monday before Memorial Day, seven in the morning. Four days until the end of the school year and the beginning of summer vacation. There were a few faculty/staff members there. In the main office, Principal Wartz was tidying up his office and jotting down some BLACK marks on some student's permanent record. Ouch for them.

Recently this year, the teachers have often asked permission to Principal Wartz to see if more field trips were possible since there were only fewer than the last semester, but he said no. It wasn't because he felt there way too many, but that economics have stripped the school budget and in one of the areas, field trips were cut short. It would take another year for the school to ask state approval for a budget increase.

On the other hand, today will say otherwise, as there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." Principal Wartz said.

The door opened to reveal a man in a black t-shirt covered by brown coat, some brown pants, short brown hair, brown mustache, and circumference wired sunglasses.

"Principal Wartz, good to meet you." He said in a formal tone as he shook Wartz's hand.

"And you must be?" Wartz asked for his name.

"My name is Hugo Smith. I have a proposition I'd like to discuss with you. You see, I've read the budget report regarding field trips and I am wondering if you'd like your students to participate in an essay contest about places they'd like to visit." He said continuing his formalness.

"Hmm… sounds intriguing. Teachers have been pestering me about this… but tell me Mr. Smith where is the funding? The state won't approve the budget until another year." he questioned.

Smith then handed him a small business card in case he asked.

"I own Smith Enterprises, a company that sponsors field trips to needy schools and I've just come upon the fact that a school such as yours is in need of a field trip." From his coat, he took out a folder that included documents such as permission slips and presented it to Wartz's desk. "Announce to your school the contest and tomorrow you'll pick the winner. The winning student will go along with his/her class to wherever they want in the world. By Saturday morning, all of the students and chaperones are to be at the airport."

Wartz rubbed his chin to think. He always wanted to get out of Hillwood for a vacation. "All right, you have yourself a deal!" he said with glee.

* * *

Every day ever since he lived, Arnold was always the optimistic boy. Always there for anybody who needed help whether it was re-building personal relationships, helping kids on projects, settle old feuds, and re-unite families. Some have abused the kindness that Arnold had, but he always forgave them if they ever apologized. Yep, he was always helping everyone… but himself. The day that his parents were said to be presumed missing took a toll on him to where he hoped to never discuss it in his life. When he read the journal, he had the feeling of bliss learning about his parent's adventures in San Lorenzo, but the last few pages once again brought him to the reality of his parent's never coming back.

That was until the very last page contained a map detailing all of San Lorenzo. It wasn't the answer he hoped for, but this was a step in the right direction. In fact, this might be the key to solving what happened to his parents.

He was currently on the left aisle of the bus that was headed to P.S. 118. His face had somberness as he rested his head on the window, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey buddy, sorry to see you like this." His best friend Gerald was there to offer him support after he heard about his parents.

"Hey Gerald… I just can't shake the feeling of my parents... I know it isn't like this of me to be this down… but I just miss them dearly." His eyes didn't form tears, but they were almost close.

Gerald quickly grabbed both of his shoulders. "Look snap out of it man! I don't want to see you like this."

He was still down on the dumps. "Sorry Gerald, but it's been so long. I don't know what to think."

Gerald then mused mentally, and remembered a song. "Remember what you're Grandma always sang when you're in that mood… 'when life gets you down, wearing a frown, don't look away, look up, 'Cause memories true come of the blue; you know the way — look up!

Arnold looked at him dumbfounded. "How did you ever find out about that song?"

"Your Grandma was always singing it on the rooftop. Anybody could've heard it, but anyways maybe there'll be something that can take you back to your parents." Gerald said with confidence.

Arnold lit a small smile. "Well, I hope both you and Grandma are right…"

He finished with being laidback about it. "Hey, for all I know maybe one day we'll have one great big adventure finding them! Always look up my man! Right now, let's just get school out of the way since summer vacation is nearby!"

* * *

Class was now in session as everyone was in. Paper airplanes were thrown into the air; spitballs from Helga were thrown at Arnold; Gerald using his suave looks which made Phoebe giggle; Stinky, Sid, and Harold, making fun of Eugene or coming up with some mischievous prank; and Curly preparing to lust towards Rhonda, only to punched by her in the face.

Yep this was Mr. Simmons' class indeed.

"Attention class, before we start the day, I have an announcement to make." Simmons waved to ensure everyone was paying attention.

"All of you know that there haven't been any field trips recently, and as I can see you're very agitated. But I finally got a treat for you guys!" He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and showed it to his class. "Principal Wartz has invited all students to participate in an essay contest!"

Murmurs were sound through the room, and a few of them gave disgruntled remarks.

"An ESSAY contest?!" Sid said in disbelief.

"Gee wilikers! I thought it was a field trip!" Stinky said in agreement.

"I'm not writing a stupid essay! They're for wussies!" shouted Harold with anger.

"Class, please I'm not finished yet." He cleared his throat with some water and resumed. "Your topic for the essay is to write about anywhere you want to go in the world, because the winner will go along with his/her entire class!" Simmons said with glee.

The disgruntled converted to delightfulness as the class erupted in cheers.

"Oh that sounds ever so wonderful, Mr. Simmons! I can't wait to start!" Lila said with a sweet tone in her voice. A tone a girl with blonde pig tails and a pink bow despised.

"_Way to take away all the fun of it, little miss perfect_." Helga thought with disgust.

The princess, the queen, then stood on top of her desk.

"Class, let it be known that I, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, will win this contest! When I win, we all we go to the city of love that is Paris! All of the exquisite fashion, the chic, the malls, the shopping… oh it will be lovely."

A self-proclaimed 'boyfriend' of hers, concurred by grabbing her hand with affection.

"Yes folks, Rhonda, my girlfriend will invite you all to the wonderful city o-"

WOMP! He received a punch in the face. "Stay away from me you little freak!"

A few seats from Rhonda, Phoebe talked to Helga about the prospects of this contest. "This'll be great Helga. We can write about any place we'd like to go. I've always dreamed of going to Japan to meet my father's family. What about you Helga? Is there someplace you'd like to go?"

From her face, she could care less. "Nah, I'll skip this one Pheebs."

Phoebe was taken aback. Why didn't she want to go? "Helga?! Are you sure about this? It'd be great to explore an-" she was soon cut off by her.

"Nope, I'm sitting through this one."

Few seats from them, was Arnold. When he heard about this, his mind was clear on where he wanted to go.

"_Mom… Dad… I'm coming." _

**A/N: Please review!**


	4. STORY ON HOLD!

**Author's Note:**

Sorry for the long wait, but I caught a severe case of writer's block with this story, not to mention college intrusions and family vacations got in the way as well. I am currently revising this fic from the start as chapters one and two will be mixing together along with some other stuff. I sort of have a clear idea of where I want to go with this fic, unlike the last time.

Thanks for the patience, guys!


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